


when you're lost and alone

by babybirdblues



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, and by that I mean that Tim is past the point of exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybirdblues/pseuds/babybirdblues
Summary: Tim’s been in the office going on twenty-two hours – he thinks.





	when you're lost and alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artificiallifecreator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificiallifecreator/gifts).



> So, this fic was written for Shmoo's birthday. She's an amazing person and I wanted to thank her for introducing me to more amazing people and inspiring me in a much loved fandom. So, thank you, Shmoo!

There’s a clock ticking somewhere.  It’s not in his office; the remains of his is laying scattered across the floor from when Tim threw his ugly paperweight at it.  He probably should call someone to clean it up if he’s not going to.  But, Tim’s been in the office going on twenty-two hours – he thinks.  It’s a bit difficult to keep track of time – the ticking needed to stop – when he’s dealing with corporate espionage, murder and relentless News reporters.  He’s just glad it’s not Vicki Vale trying to knock down the door. **  
**

“Dad says you’ve been here for three days.”

He struggles to open his eyes.  (When did he close them?)  “Tam?”

Tam’s shoulders slump – in relief? – even as she rolls her eyes. “Yes Tim.  It’s me, not a figment of your imagination.”

Tim watches as she crosses the floor, careful to avoid pieces of broken clock.

“Huh.”

When Tam reaches his desk she leans over, only to pluck the glasses off Tim’s face and wave a finger in front of his eyes.  “Okay, stud, can you focus on this?”

“Of course I can,” the huff sounds childish in the silence of his office.  “You’re flipping me off!”

“Nice try, but this is my index finger.”

“Well,” Tim’s head thumps against his chair – he’s given up on sitting straight; or maybe he wasn’t sitting straight before?  “Fuck.”

Tam’s smiling now, at least.  “Fuck, indeed.  Now, you’ve been here for three days and everyone knows you haven’t slept in more than that.  So, you’re going to sit there while I shut everything down and then I’m taking you home.”

“I can’t.  Jeff–”

“Jefferson’s family is being taken care of,” Tam moves forwards, tentatively running her hand through Tim’s hair.  Her voice is soft and gentle.  Tim’s reminded about the social workers after his parents died – both times.   “I promise.  My dad is taking care of it, and even if he wasn’t, there are more than enough people to make sure they’re taken care of.  You’ve seen to that in the last few days.”

“Well–”

“Nope!” she pops the ‘p’ as her hand moves to tug gently on Tim’s right ear.  “None of that.  You’ve gotten most of corrupted files separated in an unconnected server and dad’s working with the lawyers about going after Dalton and his company for even thinking about taking from us.”

Tim opens his mouth to argue – with what, he doesn’t know.  He just knows he’s not ready to go home.  Not yet.

“And, the News has been given the official story from Legal.”

“I, well, all right.”

Tam smiles at him, bright and sure.  He should put up a fight, would put up a fight.  But Tim’s just so tired.  Giving in seems like a really good idea.

“Wait if I’ve been here three days then my cases–”

“I was told by your, uh, brother, that it was taken care of.”

Alarm bells go off.  “Which one?”

She turns away, busying herself with Tim’s desktop.  “I’m not too sure which one it was, it was over the phone.”

Tim eyes narrow and he pulls himself upright.  “Tam.”

“I think it was Jason?” she glances at him before moving onto the stack of papers teetering at the edge of the desk.  “I don’t know!  I was more concerned with your idiot self.”

“Tam, _no_.”

She whirls around, hands on her hips and a glare to rival Bruce.  “Tam, _yes_.”  Tam steps forwards, leaning over Tim like she’s threatening – she is, sometimes.  Mostly when she’s dealing with his paperwork.  “You bullied me into taking this position as your administrative assistant and my responsibility is to the company through you!   It’s surprising you’re even lucid enough to have this argument with me!  So, you’re going to go home and sleep for a day or so help me I’ll tell Mr. Pennyworth that you’ve been surviving on coffee and Jamba Juice.”

“ _You wouldn’t!_ ”

Tim knows that gasping like some wilting flower is overkill.  He deserves to though.  Threatening Alfred is Serious.

“I totally would and you know it.” Tam finishes straightening the papers, locking them away in the top drawer.  “All right,” she claps her hands.  “Time to blow this joint.”

Normally, Tim doesn’t know how to quit, even if it is a losing battle.  But, he figures that today is a merciful surrender – considering the room starts to spin as soon as he manages to get his feet under him.  God, he feels like Bambi during his first time on the ice.

—-

Tim _might_  black out.  And by might he means he did.  Because the last thing he remembers is tumbling into the passenger seat of Tam’s Impreza.  He has no idea where she’s taken him, so he has no idea of how much time he’s lost.

He’s trying to figure out what brought him to consciousness: the car is in park, his seat belt is undone, and he’s not bleeding anywhere.

“–lp me get him inside!” Tam’s voice filters in through an open window.  That would be the stimulant he’s looking for.  Her voice rises in pitch as she continues.  “He’s been working himself to death because Mr. Wayne thinks a 17-year-old should have the full responsibility of a Fortune 500 company on his shoulders!  Not to mention his  _other job_.”

There’s a pause as a lower voice answers.  Tim strains to catch the words but they slip through his mind.

“No! I am not being unreasonable.  You call yourself his brother–”

“I am!” the other voice – Dick, that is Dick – is raising now too.  After this conversation is over Tim’s pretty sure Dick’ll feel guilty for yelling at Tam.  “But I have to sew up Damian’s wound – he’s bleeding!”

So, Tim’s at the Manor.  It’s at least a forty-five minute drive from the Tower to the Manor, more if there’s traffic; so, he’s lost at least that much.  And you know, he’s at the Manor, which isn’t  _exactly_  where he wants to be.  But he can’t even seem to raise his head.

Tam scoffs, and there’s nothing quite like the way she does it.  “Sure, the kid who is standing behind you with a dressing already on said wound?”

Wow.  Tim thought Tam only got that exasperated with him.

“What?!” Dick’s voice raises an octave.  If Tim weren’t so tired, he’d be laughing.  “Damian!  I told you to stay put.”

“Tt.” Damian’s voice is louder, almost as if he’s closer to the car.  “Please, this is a flesh wound.”

Tim attempts to snort.  Because Damian’s ‘flesh wounds’ require at least ten stitches and a tetanus shot.  All it does is aggravate his aching head.

“Anyways, Grayson,” Damian’s voice sounds from above Tim.  “Drake needs your hovering more than I do.  The fool appears dead, and since Father is insisting that I wait until I am eighteen to take over my birthright, I need the imbecile alive to keep my company running.”

“Back off, midget,” Tam’s there, right behind Damian.  Tim would flash her a grin but it would take too much energy.  “You’re not going near him.  Don’t think you got away with that arsenic in his coffee last week.”

“Damian!?”

“Tt.” Damian’s voice gets farther away.  “It is merely training.”

“No,” Dick’s voice is echoed by the click of the door.  It’s cold.  “No.  You don’t do that.  We’re family, whether you like it or not and you don’t poison family.”

Arms wrap around Tim’s back and the skin Tim’s head rests on feels delightfully cool.

“Does Bruce know?”

The question isn’t for Damian.  It’s for Tam.  She stays quiet, but that just tells Dick that no, Bruce didn’t know.  Tim didn’t want him to know.  Damian and his relationship was still rocky, yes, but the one between Bruce and the demon was getting better.  No need for Tim to put a wrench in it by complaining of a little assassination attempt.

“He does now,” Tam says.  She’s sure – and she should be.  Because Dick is going to tell Bruce.

Tim wishes he wouldn’t.  But Dick’s been trying to be more, more _something,_ after the whole Bruce lost in time issue.  He doesn’t have to be.  Tim doesn’t know what he would have done if Dick and he had switched places.  He’s glad he will never have to find out.

“Mmmrrrm?”  That did not come out as Tim wanted.  There were supposed to be actual words.

“Hush, Timmy,” Dick shifts so he’s standing, balancing on one foot to kick the door closed.

Opening his eyes physically hurts, but Tim manages enough to see Tam at Dick’s shoulder.  She smiles at him, winking.  He doesn’t know where Damian’s skulked off too.  But he’s glad he’s not here.

“Just like I said, stud, I brought you home.”

Dick stifles a laugh – and Tim can only tell because the chest he’s held against shudders for a few moments.

“Now, I’m headed home to sleep, because, it’s now three in the morning and unlike you crazy people, I don’t do this for a living.”

Her hand connects with the back of Dick’s head, and if he were trained less he probably would have dropped Tim, which wouldn’t have been good for either party.

Tim’s just glad that her ire isn’t directed at him right now.  He doesn’t have to energy to defend himself.

“You get him to bed and take care of him.”

“Yes ma’am.”

There’s the briefest touch of lips to Tim’s forehead.  His nose scrunches up and he lets out another string of nonsense.

The car starts and Dick stands there for a few minutes as Tam drives away.  

“Come on, handsome,” Dick murmurs.  “Time to get you safe in your room.”

Huh, Tim wasn’t sure that his room was still even here.

Even if he doesn’t want to be here, he feels comfortable enough being held by Dick that he has a hard time fighting against the darkness encroaching at his thoughts.  The worst thing that could happen would be the demon brat.  Except, Tim’s pretty sure that he won’t be trying anything for a while yet.  Not with how Dick reacted to what Tam let slip – it wasn’t  _really_  a secret.

So, Tim lets himself black out.  He’s here now, and with no way to fight it.  He might as well enjoy the peace, the feeling of safety, while he can.


End file.
